With you, it's different
by wildsmile
Summary: A tragedy forces Caterina to reevaluate her relationship with Tres.
1. Chapter 1

**Important disclaimer: Trinity Blood belongs to the late Sunao Yoshida . These are just the ramblings of a madwoman. Thank you.**

Chapter One:

It was too hot.

Caterina was sweltering. The August heat made her ornate cardinal vestments horribly uncomfortable. She sighed miserably. As much as she hated stifling indoor air, the air outside was much worse. Too thick and hot and breezeless for open windows. And on top of that, the air conditioning sucked. So there she sat in her office, sweating like a sow.

The paperwork in front of her was stacked high. Not too high, but high enough to make her head throb. "God," she muttered, pulling off her monocle to rub her eyes. She had already plowed through the hard stuff. The rest was just sign-and-date BS. It probably could've waited till later, but Caterina preferred to stay on top of things. Even if it meant sitting for hours in a too-hot room.

Suddenly, Leon staggered through the doors. Hugue was right behind him. They were both red-faced and winded. "Caterina!" Leon panted. "Black Widow . . . there's something . . . you should know!"

"We saw her in-" Hugue had a better hold of his breath, but Caterina cut him off cold.

"I don't really care right now," she snapped. "What Sister Monica does on her own time is no concern of mine. And, it shouldn't be any concern of yours!"

"But-" Poor Leon couldn't get out another word.

Caterina pounded her desk hard. "I don't want to hear it!" she yelled at him. "Look, gentlemen, I am _ridiculously_ busy right now. I don't have time to listen to two tattling schoolboys. So Dandelion, if you've got nothing else to say, go back to your cage. Sword Dancer, how about actually making yourself useful for once?" She yanked open a desk drawer and jerked out a manila folder. "Get yourself to Massalia. Something about parishioners whining about the Methuselah living there. Go fix it before shit hits the fan. I don't care how you do it, just fix the situation!" She threw the folder at the blond swordsman.

The two agents exchanged looks.

"Well?!" Caterina half-screamed at them.

"Oh." Leon backed away from the cardinal. "I'll . . . see myself out."

"Um . . . yeah." Hugue scooped the folder off the floor. "I'll get right on it."

They left quickly, as if they believed she could leap over her desk and tear them to shreds. Caterina went back to her work as soon as the doors shut behind them, determined to finish.

When she finally got done, it was twilight. The sky was darkening, the bigger moon was rising, the stars were peeking out. "How long have I _been_ here?" She quickly turned off her desk light and got up.

She was heading toward the doors when they suddenly opened. It startled her. She hated being startled.

"What?!" she growled at her new visitor. "_What _do you _want_?!"

Tres stood there, of course. Following her around, of course. Hanging around her, hovering over her, always underfoot, of course.

"I have just returned from Barcelona," said the android priest, unmoved by her angry words. "May I be of any more assistance?"

The Duchess of Milan was too tired and stressed to restrain herself. She had enough. Enough of today. Enough of endless paperwork and unreliable agents. Enough of the oppressive summer heat and heavy vestments. Enough, enough, enough of everything.

"Why yes, Tres, you can," she began softly. "Would you like to know how?" She marched toward the mechanical priest. She stopped when she was just an inch from him. And in her high heels, she stood a tiny bit taller than him. "You can be a great help to me by turning your tin-plated ass around and walking out of this room. I don't care where you go. I don't care what you do. I just do _not _want to see you for the rest of the night! Can you just find a hobby or something? I'm so sick of you following me everywhere! _I'm so sick of you_!" Caterina screamed the last few words. Her tired rage gave the whole room a tremor.

The android's eyes widened, going from sleepy to shocked.

And hurt.

"So, are you just going to stand there? Is your little processor too basic to understand what I'm saying?" Caterina snarled.

Tres blinked. He backed away a couple of paces. Then, he turned and walked out of the room, his shoulders just a little bit stooped. The doors closed behind him, making an apologetic click. _Sorry to have bothered you_.

Caterina stared at the doors. A tiny bubble of guilt formed, but it popped quickly. _He's fine. He'll just delete it later. You probably didn't even hurt him. He probably can't feel anything anyway. So, why worry about it? Why worry about him?_

She went back to the desk to tidy up. A pile of forms on the desk. A report filed in a folder and stashed in a desk drawer. A stapled packet thrown in the filing cabinet.

_ With you, it's different._

The thought spoke up from a deep place in her mind. But she dismissed it. She didn't want to deal with it or anything else tonight. She was going home and going to bed. She finally left her office.

It was full-on dark when she arrived at her quarters. She would've skipped reading the mail her maids brought in if she hadn't seen the small package.

"Hm?" She sat on the couch and picked it up. It was something from Maria's Fine Jewels. "I don't remember ordering anything from there!" she muttered. She carefully opened it. There was a long white box inside. Inside the box was a sparkling pink sapphire bracelet. "Oooooo!" She tried it on and it fit perfectly.

She tried to find a card or something inside the package. There was none. She took off the bracelet and went to bed. She would take care of that matter tomorrow.

Author's note: This is my first Trinity Blood fic. If I've gone OOC, I'm sorry. I've been on a Trinity Blood kick for over a year now, but my knowledge of it is still pretty limited.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

A good night's sleep worked wonders.

The next morning found Caterina at her desk, refreshed. And even more so with a glass of Kate's iced tea. Although the sky outside was dour and leaden, the duchess was feeling pretty sunny.

"You really should take better care of yourself," chided the holographic nun.

"I know." Caterina took a deep sip from her glass. "Working myself into a frazzle and being nasty to everyone doesn't help much, does it?" She sighed. "I know I shouldn't take on so much at a time. But I feel like if I don't keep on top of everything, things could . . . "

"Get bad again," Kate finished.

Caterina nodded slowly. "Things seem so fragile now, Kate. It's like the whole world could just spin off its axis if the wrong person sneezes in the wrong direction."

"But hasn't your brother grown up a bit?" Kate asked softly.

Caterina thought of her baby brother and smiled. Alec had evolved into a clear-faced, clear-voiced, and clear-intentioned pope. One who rolled his eyes every time Francesco went off on a tirade. _Oh gawd. He's screaming like a little kid again._

Just a few months ago, Alec had announced that the Vatican needed to move forward. And, a peace treaty with the Empire was part of the plan. She didn't have to hide anything anymore. She could boldly contact anyone from the Empire without worrying about being executed. The thought of human and Methuselah coexistence was quickly becoming a popular idea. It was working out so well in Albion, after all.

It was working out so well, in fact, that is caught on in Germanicus. In France. In Hispania. In Bohemia. It was spreading like a benevolent wildfire.

She was winning her war. Her dream was coming true. She should by all means be happy, be relaxed. But she just couldn't. Not yet. Her joy would only come when that treaty was finally signed.

"And, stress does awful things to your health," Kate added.

"Yes," Caterina agreed. "Yes, it does. But I didn't cough at all yesterday. Not even once. Either I'm getting better, or I'm getting better at managing it."

The doors suddenly swung open. "Well, good morning, Gunslinger," Kate greeted. Caterina looked up to see the small android. Her bright mood dimmed a little.

_With you, it's different._

Guilt squirmed inside her like an angry worm.

_I'm so sick of you!_

Poor Tres. He always got the worst of her. Poor dumb thing.

"Good morning, Sister Kate Scott," replied Tres. "May I please have an audience with the Duchess of Milan?"

"Well, I guess you can. She's right h-"

"In private?"

"Oh." Kate looked back at Caterina. _Is that okay?_ Caterina nodded. It was. "Well then, I'll just step out and check on the others. Excuse me." She faded away, leaving the Duchess and her doll.

Tres stood in the doorway, staring at his mistress.

"If you want to talk to me, you'll have to come closer," Caterina invited. "We can't really have much of a conversation with you way over there."

Tres moved slowly into the room. He stopped a yard from the desk.

"Would you like to sit?" offered Caterina.

"Negative," Tres answered in a small voice. He looked like a kicked puppy. He wasn't looking at her, he was looking at his feet. Strange. He always strode into a room, posture perfect . His voice was always loud enough. And clear. He always made eye contact. Tres never acted like this before.

"What's on your mind?" Caterina asked. Something was definately up.

Tres looked up at her, then back at his feet. He grimaced, like he was poked with something hot and sharp.

"What's wrong?" Caterina put some kindness in her voice.

Tres just pressed his lips tightly together, as if the world would end if he spoke.

"Did something happen? Did somebody get hurt?"

Tres shook his head slowly, still not looking at her.

"Was it the Inquisition? Did they say something? Did Cardinal di Medici bother you?"

"Negative," Tres finally said, barely audible. He still wouldn't look at her.

"Are you damaged? Do you think you have a virus? Do you need William?" Caterina probed. She didn't have much luck.

"Negative."

"Tres," Caterina sighed. She got up from her desk and went to him. She placed her hands gently on his cheeks. "I can't read your processor. You have to tell me what the issue is."

Tres' lower lip trembled. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his fists the same way. He looked like he was about to cry. Or explode. Or both. Dear Lord, this is the most emotion I've ever seen him show, Caterina thought.

_Is it about last night? Are you upset about last night?_ The words waited behind Caterina's lips, but she swallowed them. She didn't want to wake up last night's drama.

Finally, Tres blurted, "I cannot betray a confidence."

The words came out too quickly and quietly for Caterina's ears. "Hm? Come again?"

"I . . . I cannot betray a confidence," Tres repeated.

"Betray a confidence?" Caterina raised an eyebrow.

"An . . . AX agent confided in me." Tres' words fell out unsteadily. "He-_she_ was concerned."

"Concerned?"

"She . . . was concerned that . . . she was . . . not an agent . . . in good standing."

"Well, who is it? I'd like to know."

Tres shook his head violently. "I cannot betray a confidence!"

"I'm not going to bite her, or send her to bed without supper!" Caterina's hands slid from the android's cheeks to his shoulders. "No one's in trouble here. I just need to know who's having the problem, so we can fix it."

"Sister Kaya Syokka," Tres muttered.

"Who?" Caterina didn't quite catch it.

"Gypsy Queen," Tres said a little louder.

Caterina let her hands slip from Tres' shoulders. She scanned her memories for something, anything that would've caused Kaya to have any doubts. She could find none. And Kaya was always so confident. "Alright. I'll talk to her."

Tres just stood there, looking like he had just shot the Pope. His usual expression of sleepy indifference was gone from his face. In its place, was defeated shame.

"Tres, you really helped Kaya by telling me. " Caterina wanted to make Tres feel better. "I promise she won't know who told."

Tres opened his mouth to say something more, but he shut it quickly. Then he asked, "May I be excused?"

"Um . . . alright." Caterina knew that Tres wanted , _really_ wanted to say something else. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. "Is there anyth-"

The android priest fled the room.

"What was _that_ all about?" Caterina wondered aloud as the doors banged shut behind him. She stood wide-eyed and thunderstruck for a moment. Then, she went back to her desk. "Might have to ask William about that."

Kate came back voice first. "My goodness! He was in a hurry!"

"I guess he was." Caterina opened her laptop and turned it on. "Kate, do you remember if anything happened between me and Gypsy Queen? Have I ever said anything to her that would make her feel unwanted?"

"Nothing I can remember." Kate floated to the desk. "I always thought you had a good relationship with her. Why?"

"No reason. Just wondering." Caterina sifted through her messages. Suddenly, the room was filled with music-a swingy, jazzy rendition of _Frosty the Snowman_. And, Caterina's message screen was replaced by an ancient black-and-white cartoon. Six children, three boys, three girls, danced around a snowman. Then, the snowman was dancing, too. "What _is_ this?!"

They watched the video in surprise. Once it ended, the message screen returned. Business as usual. For a moment, they were too shocked to speak. Then, Kate broke the silence, "Cute. But isn't it early for that sort of thing?"

Caterina quietly shut down the laptop and closed it. She rose from her chair, tucking it under her arm. "Kate, is the Professor is today?"

"He should be."

"Good." Caterina hurried to the doors. "I need to see him. _Immediately_."


	3. Chapter 3

Tres fled to the rose garden.

Clusters of nuns, priests, and alter boys stopped and stared as he half-ran by, their eyes wondering, _What's with him?_ But he didn't care. Machines aren't supposed to care.

The Duchess of Milan made him feel funny. He didn't know if it was a glitch or a virus. His self-diagnostic never gave him a straight answer. But when she smiled at him, when she glared at him, it _did things_ to him. And he didn't know what those things were. All he knew was that it felt funny.

He considered bringing the issue up with William, but he never really got around to it.

"Hey! _Watch_ it, rude-ass!"

Tres was too deep in thought to see where he was going. He bumped into someone. Someone who smelled strongly of leather, cheap perfume, and cigarette smoke. That someone gave him a hard, rude shove. It was Sister Monica Argento. The Black Widow. She was giving Tres an icy how-dare-you look.

"I apologize, Sister Monica." Tres backed away from her. He noticed the lit cigarette in her hand. "Smoking on these grounds is prohibited. Please extinguish your cigarette."

Monica took a long and defiant final drag. She blew the smoke in Tres' face and stubbed the cigarette out on his right cheek. "Oops! Sorry!" Her voice was sweet, fake, nasty.

Tres took the abuse gracefully. He coolly brushed the ashes from his cheek. "Thank you for your compliance." He started to walk away. He didn't want to stay and chat.

"I heard the Duchess tossed you out on your ass last night!" Monica yelled at his back. "I guess you're not her favorite, huh!"

Tres stopped. He felt funny-again. Even the mere mention of the Duchess did it to him.

"I mean seriously, why do you keep kissing her ass? You're just a pain in hers!"

Tres moved on. He didn't need to hear anymore.

"She probably talks shit about you behind your back!"

Tres kept walking, suppressing the urge to turn around and put a bullet in the Black Widow's head.

"Hey! Maybe someday she'll sell you in a yard sale . . . _for half a denari_! Hell, she might even try to give you away for _free_!"

Tres walked faster, wanting to get away from Monica and her mouth.

What happened next, happened fast. There was a blinding white flash. Then, thick smoke hid everything. Arms in jacket sleeves seized him. Something ripped through his clothes.

And his inner workings.

****************************************************************************** The door to William's office was ajar. Caterina peered inside and found William sitting at his desk. He was just smoking his pipe and going through a stack of papers. "Come on in, Caterina," he greeted without looking up. Kate probably tipped him off.

Caterina slipped into the office. "I'm really sorry to trouble you, William. You look busy."

"Nah. It's no trouble." The old professor tapped the papers with the red pen he had. "Just grading papers and dying of boredom. Any distraction is welcome. You've been having some laptop problems?"

"I don't know if it can be called a _problem_." Caterina set her laptop on William's desk. "But it's strange. I was checking my emails this morning, and this cartoon just suddenly started playing!"

"Cartoon?" William's brow furrowed. He pulled the laptop to him. "What kind?" He opened it and turned it on. "Anything obscene or threatening?" He typed and clicked. _Frosty the Snowman_ filled the room. "Or unseasonal?"

"Do you think it's harmful? Is there a virus or something attached to it?" Caterina seated herself in a chair beside the desk.

"I'll run a scan to find out. " The song stopped abruptly and William studied the screen carefully. "I don't see anything so far."

Caterina gazed out the window behind William's desk. "It looks awful out there."

"We're supposed to have some wicked thunderstorms today." William puffed on his pipe as he worked. "I think they're supposed to hit sometime after noon. Maybe sooner." He looked up at Caterina. "Does Tres have access to this laptop?"

"Of course, he does." Caterina's gaze shifted from the window to William. "He sends me files when he has to. He's practically a computer himself! Why?"

"Because he sent the video," replied William, shutting down the laptop. "No viruses. Just an android trying to make you happy."

Caterina gave off a small, relieved laugh, "Tres did that?"

"Oh yes." William smiled as he shut the laptop. "All signs point to Tres."

Caterina tenderly rested her hand on her laptop. "Tres."

"Are you surprised he did that?" William asked her.

"I am, but I guess I really shouldn't be." She scooted her laptop off the desk and laid it in her lap. "He was acting funny this morning."

"Funny?" William became intrigued. "Funny ha-ha, or funny cause for concern."

"Cause for concern. He . . . acted like he really needed to tell me something. He told me Sister Kaya was having doubts. " She looked up at William. "He was _upset_. I've never seen him like that! He needed to talk to me alone. Then, getting him to talk was like pulling teeth. He finally said that thing about Kaya. After that, he lit out of my office like he caught on fire!"

"That _is_ strange!" William got up and went into the workshop that was connected to his office. The phone on his desk rang. "Can you get that? Please?"

Caterina picked up. "Professor Wordsworth's office."

"Your Eminence?" It was Kate. "Somebody from . . . Maria's Fine Jewels is on the line. Should I have them call back, or would you like me to patch them through?"

"Go ahead and patch them through, Kate. Thank you." Caterina remembered the bracelet she got last night.

After a couple of beeps, a cheerful and nasally voice greeted, "Cardinal Sforza?"

"Yes. Speaking."

"Hi! I'm Fiona from Maria's Fine Jewels. We're just calling to see if you received your gift."

"Gift."

"I believe it was a pink sapphire bracelet?"

"Yes. Yes, I _did_ get that last night."

"Awesome! Well, thank you for your time. We're sorry to bother you. This is just a courtesy. We like to make sure the gifts get to the right recipients. And, we look forward to serving you in the fu-"

"Who ordered it?" Caterina's question just jumped out.

"Um . . . what?" Fiona sounded a little frightened.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to interrupt. It's just that when I got the bracelet, I was caught completely off guard. I just want to know who ordered it, so I can thank this person."

"Hold on for just a minute." Two female voices conversed. Caterina couldn't quite make out what they were saying. But she caught the words _priest_, _cute_, and _strange_. Then, Fiona picked up again. "Your Eminence?"

"Yes?" Caterina was ready for her answer.

"We . . . really didn't get a name. But we can give you a description. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

"Great! Well, the guy who ordered it was a priest. He wasn't very tall. He was good looking, _sleepy looking_. Looked like he had a hearing aid or something. Brown hair, brown eyes. Does this sound familiar?"

The words made Caterina look at her feet.

_I'm so sick of you!_

And wish the ceiling would just fall on her.

_With you, it's different._

She felt horrible. She looked down at her laptop. God, all he ever does is try to make me happy, she thought. She wanted to cry.

"Cardinal Sforza?" She hadn't answered Fiona yet.

"Huh? Oh . . . y-yes. Thank you. That really does sound like someone I know." She tried to sound cheerful.

"Is there anything else we can help you with?" Fiona inquired.

"Oh no. You've been very helpful."

"Great! We'll just get out of your hair then. Thank you for your time."

"Not a problem. Thank you for calling. God bless you. 'Bye." She hung up.

William came out of his workshop, scowling at a rectangular device in his hands. He poked its buttons and shook it. "Trying to run a systems check on Tres, but this miserable thing only works when it wants to." He threw it on the desk with a frustated, "Bah!"

Caterina stood up slowly. "I could have Tres come in to see you."

"Could you? That would be excellent." William saw the heavy look on Caterina's face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, William. I just need to . . . talk to a friend. Sort things out." Caterina started for the door. "That was the jewelry store that called. Somebody sent me a bracelet last night. I just found out who. I need to go thank him." Caterina rested her hand on the door knob.

"You don't sound very thrilled." William followed her, ready to get the door for her. "If a friend sent me something, I'd be pretty happy."

"Oh no. I'm happy, William." Caterina watched him open the door. "I've just been tired lately. I think I'll leave early to-"

Thick smoke filled the room. A fire? But the smoke alarms didn't go off! Caterina felt William grasp her wrist gently. "Stay close."


	4. Chapter 4

The smoke slowly started to disperse.

Caterina nervously peered over William's shoulder. In the thinning fog, a tall figure approached, making her go stiff. It also made William raise his sword-cane protectively. "Who's there?" he demanded.

"Me," coughed the figure, his voice familiar.

"Havel?" William lowered his cane.

"Yeah." The smoke cleared enough to reveal Know Faith striding toward them. He was dragging some kind of garment behind him. Some kind of dark-colored trench coat. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine." William carefully made his way to Havel. Caterina followed closely behind him. "You?"

"I'll live." Havel fanned away the stubborn remaining smoke.

"What happened?" Caterina asked.

"What happened? Well at first, it looked like some kid was wandering around the premises. All I did was ask him if he was lost. The little bastard took off running. He was probably up to no good, so naturally, I chased him. I got him by the coat, but just when I was about to _really_ grab him, everything just went white. Then, I got a faceful of smoke. I tried to keep hold of him, but he wiggled out of his jacket." Havel held up the jacket.

The long, black coat was adorned with medals and badges. But the red armband on one of the sleeves got Caterina's attention. It had that hated star emblem on it. She almost threw up in her mouth when she saw it.

"Rosenkreuz!" William gasped.

"What?" Havel took a good look at the coat in his hand. "Dear Lord!"

William began to bombard Havel with questions. "Did you see anyone else? Did you notice anything strange before all this happened? Anything? Anything this morning? Last night? Yesterday? Phone calls? Letters? Strange noises?"

"I don't _know_!" Havel flared. "I'm still trying to proc-"

"Gentlemen!" Caterina had snapped into Woman of Steel mode. "We need to act! William, do a head count. Make sure everyone in the place is safe and accounted for. Bishops, altar boys, _everyone_! Havel, get with Kate and have all AX agents assemble in my office ASAP. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better. Now _go_!"

William ran one way, Havel ran the other. Caterina followed Havel. It was fortunate that Francesco had taken the Inquisition and went to Tuscany. Some kind of festival. Whatever. She was glad she didn't have to deal with their BS. And, Alec was in Germanicus, visiting Ludwig II. Hopefully, he was out of harm's way.

When Caterina entered her office, Havel, Abel, Kate, and Leon were already there. Kate was in the process of calling Hugue back from Massalia. The storm could delay him. But he would make an effort to get back. Maybe. "So far, we haven't heard back from Black Widow, Gunslinger, and Gypsy Queen," Havel reported.

"Gunslinger?" Abel raised an eyebrow. "That's odd. Tres is usually the first one to come running when Caterina calls."

"Kate, didn't you call him?" Caterina felt sick with worry.

"Of course I did! But he didn't respond." Kate was just as worried.

"That . . . can't be . . . " Caterina's hand flew to her mouth. "That . . . he . . . " The phone rang, making her jump. She snatched it up. "Hello? . . . _Where_ are you? . . . Alright, alright . . . Have you seen Gunslinger or Gypsy Queen? . . . No? . . . Okay . . . okay . . . _fine_!" She hung up hard. "Monica," she sighed.

The doors flew open, revealing Sister Kaya. "Sorry I'm late," she panted.

"As long as you made it," Caterina said absently, unsmiling.

"That just leaves Gunslinger then." Havel stared worriedly at Caterina as she stumbled to her desk.

William came in and reported, "Everyone's been accounted for."

"Not everyone," Abel said gravely. "Tres hasn't checked in yet."

"My god! What could have happened?" William glanced out the window. The sky flickered wickedly. "I hope he doesn't get caught out in the storm. I'd hate to see him get hit by lightning!"

The phone rang again. It rang once, twice, three times. Abel picked it up after the fourth ring. "Hello?" His eyes went from icy blue to blood red. "What do you want, Cain?" He could barely keep from going crusnik. "Well, what does Isaak want?" A pause. "If he thinks he's getting-"

Caterina grabbed the phone from Abel. "What does he want, Cain?" she demanded.

"Oh! Caterina! So _nice_ to hear from you!" Cain Knightlord's voice was like heated honey.

"What does Isaak want?" Caterina repeated.

"Uh . . . well . . . Isaak . . .he has a thing for you," Cain explained. "We just happened to be in Rome today. And, Isaak just happened to see your sweet little dolly wandering around all by himself. So, he thought he'd borrow him, to get your attention."

"Really." Caterina's voice could have left a thick layer of frost on the phone. "Well, Mr. Knightlord, you tell Mr. Kampfer that what he did was not _borrowing_, it was _stealing_. No. Not even that. It was _kidnapping_! And, if you filthy degenerates let him go right now, I'll forget this ugly incident. If you don't, you will all be _extremely_ sorry!"

"I prefer Contra Mundi, Caterina, " Cain said darkly.

"I really don't give a rat's ass!" Caterina yelled into the phone. "As far as I'm concerned, your name is mud! Now, you have exactly _one hour_ to release Father Tres Iqus. If we don't see him within that hour, you will have all of AX tearing your Orden a new asshole! Go ask Isaak if he still wants my attention _now_!"

Cain sighed. "Tell you what, Sweetie, we're under the railroad bridge. The one on the west side of town. The one with the nice little park and hiking trail. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Sure." Caterina wasn't prepared to make any deals with this maniac.

"Awesome! Well, if you would just come and come alone, no AX lackeys, we'll consider letting the little guy go," Cain bargained. "But if not, we'll gladly return Tres to you . . . in a few pieces."

"Alone?" Caterina suddenly felt faint. She had to hold on to her desk to keep from falling over.

"I think you better hurry. Isaak got pretty clumsy with one of his toys. Your dolly's getting some gross red oily stuff all over the place."

Rage coursed through Caterina like electricity. "You . . . you . . . cowardly . . . dirty . . . _I'll kill you all_!"

"So . . . that's a yes then?" Cain sounded sickeningly cheerful.

Caterina slammed the phone down and stormed out of her office.

"Caterina?" Abel followed her. "What happened? What did he say? Caterina?"


	5. Chapter 5

His voice recognition program wasn't working. And when he was finally able to open his eyes, everything was all pixelated. And, there were numerous error messages.

Voices carried on a garbled, indistinct conversation. He could only make out a few words.

_. . . do with him?_

_. . . her birthday . . ._

_. . . lost his jacket!_

_I didn't mean to!_

_The rain is screwing with my hair._

_Your hair's already screwed._

_Shut up, Mophead!_

Tres blinked a couple of times, clearing his vision. He saw wooden rafters high above him, and he felt himself lying on something hard. He slowly ran his hands over the surface. Wooden boards.

"When's Birhtday Girl coming?" one voice asked. The voices were getting clearer, but he still couldn't identify them.

"She'll get here when she gets here, Dietrich," another voice replied. "So quit asking. You're worse than a little kid."

_Dietrich._ Tres knew only one Dietrich. He reached for his Jericho M-13's, but found that he had been disarmed. He struggled himself up to a sitting position.

"Hey, look who's up!" A brown-haired young man walked over to him. He had Tres' guns in his hand. He raised them up and jiggled them. "Looking for these?" Tres grabbed at them, but Dietrich yanked them away. "Ah-ah-ah. Behave yourself. This is a party!"

A tall, blond man joined Dietrich. "You'll have to excuse him, Dietrich," he said in a cool, gentle voice. "I don't think he knows how to behave. He probably doesn't get invited to very many birthday parties anyway. Do you, Tres?" He had Father Nightroad's features, even his winter blue eyes. But this wasn't Father Nightroad.

This was his evil twin, Cain Knightlord.

Contra Mundi himself.

Tres wanted to jump off the wooden table and initiate combat. He wanted to punch Cain, to cave in his face with its sweet and venomous grin. He wanted to reclaim his guns and riddle him with bullets. He wanted so badly to do something, _anything_.

But all he could do was roll off the table and onto a bench. Apparently, he had been lying on a picnic table. "He's getting up!" yelled Dietrich.

"Relax. He's not going to do anything." A tall, slender man with long, black hair strode to the picnic table, lighting a fresh cigarillo. "I took the fight out of him, just like she wanted."

Tres squirmed on the bench. He thought he had plenty of fight left in him. He was going to get off the bench. He was going to stand up, stand tall. And, he was going to show Kampfer just how much fight he had. He was a machine, a machine that had an infinite supply of fight.

But his legs didn't respond as well as his arms.

And, all he did was roll around in his own red oil.

He slipped off the bench and onto a concrete floor. "Wow!" Cain acclaimed. "He got off the table _all_ by himself! Good job, Buddy!"

They laughed. They laughed at the empty threat he was to them. They laughed at his feeble attempts to get up. They laughed as oil and fluids gushed out of him as he struggled.

They laughed.

Tres desperately scanned his surroundings. He found that he was in a shelter at some park. He saw the nearby swing set, the faraway tennis court. Yes, he was at a park, but he couldn't tell exactly where he was. His GPS was offline.

An earth-shaking thunderclap informed Tres that it was storming and storming hard. No one visits a park during a thunderstorm. So, he wasn't going to get any help from a bystander. He tried to call someone, but his radio was out. Tres looked at the entrance of the shelter. He could crawl away, crawl to a road, crawl to a motorist. And, he was just about to begin that journey. But a lightning bolt touched down close. Lightning would be unkind to his mechanical body. Especially after he got soaked by the driving rain.

It began to sink in. He was too damaged to stand, or fight. He was at the non-existent mercy of Rosenkreuz. No one knew where he was. This was the worst possible situation he had ever been in. Tres wanted to scream, but all that came out was staticy noise. Wordless, voiceless noise. He was too damaged to even speak.

If machines could cry. Oh, if only machines could cry.

Suddenly, a female figure appeared, sashaying through the rain. When she got closer, Tres saw her revealing priest's clothes and felt his version of relief. Monica Argento, the Black Widow, stepped into the shelter. "Gentlemen," she greeted.

"Happy Birthday, Schwarze Witwe!" Cain returned cheerfully.

_Schwarze Witwe_?!

"We brought your present!" sang Dietrich.

"Just like you wanted." Isaak grabbed Tres by the cassock and hauled him off the floor. "Ta-da!"

Monica grinned wickedly at Tres. "Good."


	6. Chapter 6

Monica lit a fresh cigarette and said, "Can't stay long. The old bitch'll come looking for me."

Cain gave her a warm smile. "That's alright. I think we have plenty of time."

"You called her, right?" Monica inquired. "Was she pissed?"

"Oh yeah," Cain chuckled. "I didn't think a woman of the cloth used language like that! She even made threats."

"Empty ones, I'm sure." Monica exhaled a perfect smoke ring. "Think she'll come?"

"Don't know." Cain shrugged deeply. "She didn't say she would. She didn't say she wouldn't. We'll just have to wait and see."

"She probably won't. I don't think she'll waste any energy on _that_ hunk of junk." Monica pointed her cigarette disdainfully at Tres. "No, she'll probably just send one of her AX peons to come get him. God forbid she ever breaks a nail!"

Contra Mundi and his cronies laughed. Tres wished he had his guns. Oh, he wished.

"She just might. You never know." Isaak rudely tossed the wrecked android back onto the picnic table.

"She won't," Monica assured him. "She probably won't get two feet away from her office without coughing up blood and passing out!"

"So . . . what're we gonna do with him?" asked Dietrich.

"Yeah. What shall we do with the dolly, Schwarze Witwe?" Cain asked Monica.

"Well," Monica replied with an evil laugh, "I've always wondered . . . about one thing." She sauntered to Tres, grinning maliciously. "I've always wanted to know . . . if he's anatomically correct."

The three men hooted and guffawed.

"I mean, _why_ does she keep him around?" Monica went on. "He's a pretty shitty AX agent. He's more a liability than an asset. He can't get anything done. He even shoots at his own colleagues! She should've scrapped his ass a long time ago. But for some odd reason, he's still here. So, I think he's more than just eye candy for her. I think he's. Her. Own. Personal. Pleasure-bot!"

The laughter that followed was louder than the thunderclap that followed. Tres didn't understand what Monica had just said. _Pleasure-bot_ didn't compute. But for some reason, his face started to feel warm.

"I don't know," Cain giggled. "I don't think those Vatican prudes would give him the equipment." Isaak and Dietrich both nearly fell over laughing.

"R-right," Isaak agreed, trying to regain his composure. "They built him to just shoot things, so I don't think he'll be packing a _special pistol_."

"He looks awful human," Dietrich pointed out. "He could be, you know, _intact_."

"Let's find out." Monica reached out and started to undo Tres' pants.

Author's note: It's short, I know. I'm trying to keep this PG-13. As for whether or not Tres has _equipment_, I'll just leave it up to you.


	7. Chapter 7

"Caterina, what are you doing?" Abel followed Caterina as she charged into her quarters.

Caterina didn't answer. She pulled off her monocle and dropped it on an end table. Then she threw off her hat and tugged off her gloves, tossing them haphazardly behind her. After that, she plopped down on her couch, unzipped her boots, and kicked them off. She then flew into her bedroom, slamming the door in Abel's face.

"Caterina?" Abel had no idea what his boss was up to.

Caterina went into her walk-in closet. She quickly snatched up some items of clothing, along with a pair of black rain boots. She threw the clothes on her bed and started to undress.

"Caterina?" Abel pounded on her bedroom door.

"Don't come in here!" Caterina yelled.

"What's going on?" Abel demanded. "Why did you leave the office?"

"I had my reasons!" Caterina began to put on the clothes she brought out. "Now, go back to the office!"

"What are you doing?"

"It's not your concern!"

"Caterina, when an AX agent is kidnapped by the Rosenkreuz Orden, it's everyone's concern!" Abel argued. He had no intention of going back to the office.

"God, he never listens!" Caterina growled to herself. She pulled on her rain boots.

"What's the plan? What are we going to do? How are we to handle this?" Abel's questions came as fast and as hard as the rain outside. "What are your orders? What are we doing?"

"_We_ are not doing anything," Caterina replied tersely. "_I_ am doing something, and that's all you need to know." She jerked open the drawer of her nightstand and found the small box she kept there. She opened the box and took out a compact handgun. She checked the bullets and the safety before she carefully slid it in her back pocket.

"Caterina!" Abel gasped. He was shocked at the sight of the lady cardinal. She trotted out of her bedroom in a pair of designer jeans and a T-shirt. "Why did you change your clothes? Why are you dressed like that?"

"Don't worry about it," Caterina told him. She went to the phone mounted on the wall, right beside the entry door. She picked it up and punched in a few numbers. "Yes, I need a car," she requested. "No, I'll be driving myself. Just bring it to the west gate and leave the keys. Thank you." She hung up.

"Y-You can't be serious, Caterina!" Abel couldn't believe what she was about to do.

Caterina rested her hand on the knob. "Go back to the office and wait with the others, Abel," she ordered. "I'll let you know when it's over." She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. A room-rattling thunderclap didn't even make her flinch. "I have something very important to do." She stepped outside and tried to shut the door behind her, but Abel caught it.

"Caterina, please don't do this!" he pleaded. "Send us. Send _all_ of us. We'll get Tres back. I promise!"

"I can't do that, Abel." Caterina thought of the pink sapphire bracelet. She thought of the little video of the dancing children and their snowman. "Not this time."

"Are you mad?! Do you know what Contra Mundi is capable of?" Abel grasped Caterina's shoulders. "You know what _I_ can do, right? He can do just as much, maybe more! You won't la-"

Caterina gave Abel a hard shove. "He has informed me that unless I come alone, they'll send Tres back in pieces! I don't have time to stand here and argue with you, Abel. Get back to the office and wait! That's a direct order!"

Abel grabbed her wrist, desperate to stop her. "Think of your baby brother!" he shouted. "Think of how alone he'd be if something were to happen to you!"

Caterina paused. The thought of leaving Alec alone and unprotected in his position would've stopped her, but it didn't. She couldn't stop. Not this time. "If I turn back now," she told Abel, "I am not qualified to be cardinal."

"What?" Abel didn't understand.

"It was my duty, my responsibility." Caterina hung her head. "I was supposed to take care of Tres, to look after him, to help him become a person. He's really just a child in a mechanical soldier's body, Abel. And, I took advantage of him. I took advantage of his power, his skill, his strength. He gave me all of himself, but I gave him nothing. Not a shred of my love, not a piece of my heart, nothing. I brought him back from St. Angelo's, and that was it. From then on, I took and never gave."

Abel's grip on her arm weakened a little. She pulled it loose. She turned and started her march toward the west gate.

"What about Tres?" Abel asked her. "What will become of him if you don't survive? What will he do?"

Caterina stopped. "He won't belong to a spoiled brat anymore," she replied softly. "He'll be much better off."

Abel stared sadly at Caterina. The sky flashed cruelly, but she was undeterred. She was going and no one was going to stop her. He thought he was seeing Caterina alive for the very last time.

Caterina walked a few paces and stopped. "Abel, listen carefully," she instructed. "These could be my last orders. Go back to the office and wait. Wait forty-five minutes. No more, no less. Do you remember the park on the west side of the city? The one with the old railroad bridge?"

"Yes," Abel replied, defeated.

"Good." Caterina touched the gun hidden in her pocket. "That's where their sick little party is being held. After forty-five minutes, Abel, take everyone and go there." She walked a few more steps and stopped. "I want you to tell Alec that I wronged someone and this is a penance. Tell him that if I don't make it, he is to give Father Tres the best care and guidance he can give. Tell him to give Tres the best love he can give. Tell him Tres can love and needs to _be_ loved. Tell him to keep moving forward, to keep working toward peace with the Empire. Tell him not to let anyone pull him back from it. Ever. Understand?"

Abel nodded unhappily. "Please be careful."

"I'll be as careful as I can," she promised. She crossed herself and moved on, putting her survival in God's hands.


	8. Chapter 8

Tres was miserable.

He was hot, overheating badly. And, standing out in the rain was only making it worse. Cain was holding him up because he could barely stand, and he wasn't exactly gentle.

"Hey, can we not get nasty red gunk all over the place?" Cain gave him a rough shake. "You're not doing very nice things to the environment, you know."

Tres' wrecked body sparked and hissed. Error messages flashed over and over again. He emitted a pained, electronic whimper. What he was feeling wasn't quite pain, but it was terribly uncomfortable.

"I think the big bad Gunslinger's gonna cry," sneered Kampfer.

"Aw, poor little dolly," Dietrich chuckled cruelly.

Monica would've weighed in with a vicious comment of her own, but she was gone. She had left a little while ago. But she had left a brutal threat in her wake. _You tell your precious Duchess what happened here, I will kill her in her sleep. You won't see it coming. You won't be able to stop it, or do a damned thing about it. I'll just end her. So, you better keep it on mute, baby doll, if you want to keep that bitch alive._

A shudder went through went through Tres like a surge. He let out a noise that sounded like a microphone's feedback. Cain shook him again. "That's enough out of you! You're giving me a headache!"

"Crying won't help you anyway." Kampfer tossed a finished cigarillo on the ground. "She probably won't come. Do you honestly think she'll actually come out here herself and rescue you?"

Tres didn't have an answer for that. The Duchess of Milan is a busy woman and a sickly woman. But she is also a strong-willed and caring woman.

"Yo! Kampfer! Your date's here!" Dietrich yelled suddenly.

"Oh my God!" Cain exclaimed. "She decided to show up!"

Tres slowly raised his head. There she was. There was the Duchess of Milan. The rain had drowned the curls out of her golden hair. She was dressed in clothing that was too casual and common for woman of her position. But there she was, there she stood, in the flesh.

"Well, I'll be damned." Kampfer sauntered over to Caterina, grinning widely. "Good to see ya, Caterina."

Caterina didn't return Isaak's grin. "I've come for the android," she said coolly.

"Android?" Isaak glanced back at Cain. "You mean that messy thing over there?"

"He's not very . . ." Cain let go of Tres and watched him drop to his knees. "Well, he doesn't seem to be working very well, does he?"

"Let's just toss him in the river!" Dietrich piped up. "He's just a stupid doll anyway."

Caterina stared ice daggers at Dietrich. "That _stupid doll _is my most prized possession," she proclaimed. "And, no one is tossing him anywhere!"

_Most prized possession._ Those words picked Tres up off the muddy ground. They brought a near-smile to his face and a light in his eyes. He moved toward the Duchess, wanting to get to the safety of her ar-

"Damn it, Dietrich! I said you could hold it, not play with it!" Isaak screamed.

Before Tres could process what was happening, something ripped through his chest.

Caterina watched in horror.

Dietrich had the Sword of Beelzebub. And somehow, he had managed to skewer the Killing Doll with it. "Oops," he said sheepishly.

"You idiot!" Isaak roared.

"Aw, now, look what you did, Dietrich," Cain chided. "You went and broke her doll!"

"He was already broken!" Dietrich whined.

Caterina watched speechlessly as Tres crumpled to the mud. The one who protected her. The one who served her faithfully. The one who loved her with whatever he had to love her with. She stared at his wrecked, broken body and torn, oil-soaked vestments. All that hurt and harm could have been prevented if -

Caterina launched herself at Dietrich. She tackled him and they both rolled down the riverbank. Her fists went to work on his face, pounding his eyes and nose.

Isaak and Cain laughed. It was all too funny for them. "That's what you get for breaking a little girl's doll!" Cain laughingly admonished.

Caterina stopped. She stared at the two laughing bastards. She suddenly wasn't interested in Dietrich anymore. She got off him and kicked him into the river. If he drowned, oh well.

She marched toward Cain and Isaak, slowly slipping the gun out of her back pocket. She fumbled off the safety, too enraged to be stopped.

Kampfer didn't see it coming. The first bullet missed his head by just an inch. The second caught him in the right shoulder and knocked him on his ass. "Hey!" he shrieked. The third bullet would have gotten him in the left knee, but he managed to scoot away.

Caterina took aim at Mr. Contra Mundi himself. She squeezed off three more rounds, but they didn't hit. Of course, they didn't. Cain just wouldn't allow that. "Grab her," he ordered.

A wet Dietrich crawled up the riverbank. "The bitch tried to drown me!" he screamed.

Isaak wobbled to his feet. "You . . . little . . . _skank_!" He charged at Caterina, grabbed her by her neck, and hoisted her up, ignoring his wounded shoulder. "I should just . . ." He was too pissed off to say much more, so he threw her hard to the ground. The pistol tumbled out of Caterina's hand. It was empty anyway.

Caterina landed about a foot away from Tres. Some small twitching movements caught her eye. "Tres?" She crawled to him. His fingers were twitching, his lips were moving. He was trying to say something. Although Caterina was no good at reading lips, she could make out a desperate_, help me._


	9. Chapter 9

"Tres?!" Caterina gently rolled the Killing Doll onto his back and raised his head. "Tres! Look at me! Open your eyes!"

Tres managed to get his eyes open halfway. He clawed the muddy ground weakly. His lips moved frantically, but nothing came out. And he was hot to the touch and too damaged to sit up. He needed William_'_s care badly.

And to make matters worse, Caterina was starting to feel a coughing fit coming on. _Oh God_, _not now_, she prayed._ Not that, not here, not now! Please not now!_

But the coughing fit seized her, and it was a nasty one.

"Is she gonna die on us?" Dietrich wondered.

"God, what a turn-off," scoffed Kampfer.

"I think Robo- Priest is still twitching," Dietrich observed.

"Well, spank my butt and put me to bed!" Cain was nearly impressed. "That little bugger's built to last, isn't he?"

Caterina glared up at them. "I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I am going to kill all of you," she choked out. "I swear to God!"

"How cute," Cain laughed at her. "Okay, guys, get the little girl off her doll. Enough playing. She's got some work to do."

"Don't touch me, you filthy sewer rats!" Caterina snarled hoarsely at them. She could barely speak through her coughing.

"Shut up." Kampfer grabbed her right arm and rudely yanked her up.

"Keep your hands off Tres!" she screamed.

"Who would want to touch that thing?" Dietrich lightly kicked Tres' still chassis.

"Now." Cain crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you going to play nice now? Or, do you want us to show you what your doll looks like on the inside? You choose."

"What do you want?" Caterina sighed. "Huh? You went through all this trouble to get me here! So, what do you want? You didn't drag us out here for your health, did you?"

Cain turned to Kampfer and asked, "What _do_ you want, Isaak? This was your idea, after all."

The Wizard lit a fresh cigarillo and took a long, thoughtful drag. "I want . . . to see what you're hiding in that T-shirt," he finally replied.

"I-I'm not hiding anything in my shirt." Caterina smoothed her rumpled, grass- streaked T-shirt.

"You are." Isaak grinned lecherously. "You're hiding_ two_ things, actually. And I've always wanted to see them. So, you either lift up your shirt and show them to me, or the dolly gets kicked into the river."

Caterina's face went from a shocked white, to an insulted red, to an angry magenta. This dirty ball of grease wanted to see the secret parts of her anatomy. She wanted to walk up to the son of a bitch and slap him, but that wouldn't improve the situation. She looked sadly at Tres. Then, she glared at Isaak. Then, she raised her face to the sky. "Okay," she conceded. "You'll let us go right after, right?"

"Sure. Whatever." Isaak didn't sound like he would.

Caterina clutched the hem of her shirt and pulled it slowly up. She had it two inches above her navel when she paused. "The other two need to leave," she informed. "I'm not giving a public show!"

"Okay," Cain agreed. "Come, Dietrich, let's go back to the shelter."

"I wanna to see!" Dietrich whined.

"Tough luck. She said no." Cain pulled Dietrich away by the shirt.

As soon as they were a safe distance away, Caterina resumed the insulting chore. Her shirt rose to just under her bra and she stopped. She didn't want to do this. She did not want to flash her goods like a drunken college girl.

"Well?" Kampfer was getting impatient.

Just as Caterina was about to reveal her bra, a girly scream pierced the wet air like a bullet. Mr. Wizard was suddenly not interested in a peep show anymore. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

Dietrich came running up the trail. "Big . . . Jesus- looking guy!," he screamed. "He came outta nowhere!"

Know Faith materialized behind Dietrich and snatched him up. "C'mere, boy!" He dragged the puppeteer off.

"Hey!" Kampfer trotted after them. He stopped long enough to tell Caterina, "I'll deal with you later."

Caterina smirked back at him. "Oh, please do," she taunted. She watched Kampfer hurry off. She wanted to follow him. But she figured it would be safer to stay where she was. If Havel was there, so was everybody else. And, Cain and Abel were probably going at it. She had sense enough not to get in between two warring crusniks. She and Tres were safe. At least, for now.

She knelt beside Tres. "I think it's over now," she consoled. A coughing jag hit her again. This one brought up blood and she started to feel dizzy.

"Hey." The hand gently rested on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Caterina turned and tried to answer. But darkness rose up and swallowed her. She saw Monica's face.

Far away, a voice called out, "William!"


	10. Chapter 10

Caterina found she didn't die. She was too sore to be dead.

She pried her eyes open. She was lying in a bed in a dark room. She stretched out her left arm and was relieved to feel her nightstand. Her left hand had no trouble finding the lamp and turning it on.

The light revealed Havel sitting by her bedside, startled by the sudden illumination. "You're awake!" he gasped. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell," she replied, pushing herself up to a sitting position. "How long was I out?"

"A good twelve hours." Havel nodded toward the dark sky outside her window. "The doctor said you kicked up your illness. He wants you to stay in bed for a few days. Two or three tops."

Caterina groaned. She hated being bedridden. Damn sickness.

"So how is everyone?" she asked. She hoped there weren't any more casualties.

"Crusnik was beating the hell out of Mr. Contra Mundi. Gunslinger is in the Professor's workshop, being put back together. And everyone else, including Sword Dancer, came back alright." Havel grinned. "Hugue left a surprise for you on your desk. You'll love it. I promise."

Caterina heaved a sigh of relief. She settled back against the pillows. "How's Tres? Do you know how he is?"

"I checked in with William three hours ago. Gunslinger is in pretty bad shape. William can fix him, but his recovery will be a really long one."

Caterina stared sadly at her comforter. If she had been kinder to Tres, he would not be in such a position.

"Shit happens," consoled Havel. "We'll just flush the toilet and go on."

"Yeah." Caterina spied a plastic shopping bag on the floor beside Havel's feet. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"The bag. What's in the bag?" Caterina pointed to it.

"Oh." Havel picked up the bag. "William handed it to me when I last checked on Gunslinger. Doesn't have much in it."

Caterina watched Havel paw through it. There was a rosary, a shredded cassock, an oil- stained stole, and a small, rectangular item. "What's_ this_?" She reached over and pulled it out of the bag. She inspected it carefully. "It looks like a memory card."

"Probably is." Havel stood up. "I'm going to go and see if Nightroad made it back yet. Try to get some sleep."

"Havel, I've _been_ asleep!"

"Well, get some rest. At least!" Havel went to her bedroom door. "Just . . . don't make yourself any sicker than you are already."

"Fine. I'll be good."

Havel opened the bedroom door. "I'll tell everyone you're awake and doing okay. Don't make me a liar now."

"_Okay_, Havel!"

The tall, bearded priest left the room, softly closing the door behind him. Caterina set the memory card on the nightstand and picked up the TV remote. A little mindless TV was in order.

But nothing good was on. Nothing even remotely interesting to her. Caterina switched off the TV and tossed the remote aside. She looked at the memory card. What was on it?

Caterina opened her nightstand drawer and found her tablet. If TV sucked, the Internet didn't disappoint. And her trusty tablet got her through many bedrests.

She decided to check out the memory card first. She carefully stuck it in the slot and pulled up its contents. What Caterina saw next made her immediately wish she hadn't.

She saw what Tres saw that horrible day. He was molested. Greedy hands undressed him and did filthy, vile things to him. Dirty mouths voiced what was on even dirtier minds. The things that were said would make even Satan himself blush.

And Monica was there.

She was having sick fun right alongside of them.

She whispered evil threats.

Suddenly, Caterina wasn't interested in surfing the web anymore. She stumbled out of bed and staggered into her bathroom. There, she retched in the bathtub. Then she crawled back into bed and threw her tablet across the room.

She remembered what Hugue and Leon tried to tell her earlier. But she hadn't been willing to hear their story. If she had, Tres wouldn't be suffering now.

Caterina put her head in her hands and wept.

She knew what she had to do. And as soon as she was out of bed, she was going to do it.


	11. Chapter 11

Four days later . . .

Caterina returned to her office, looking well and feeling better. She did a three-day stint in bed. And after that, she spent a day at the spa to put herself back together.

She was thrilled to find a length of black hair, stretched out across her desk. She had been told that Hugue had whacked it off of ol' Kampfer, and the vile wizard ran away crying. She decided to mount it on a plaque and display it. But before she did that, Caterina had an important matter to attend to.

She opened the top desk drawer and searched through it. She had stuck an important item in there a few years ago. But she never took it out. She never even touched it.

Until now.

Caterina fished a small device out of the drawer. It was the size and shape of a credit card and it only had one small red button on it.

Monica wasn't difficult to find. She was loitering in the hallway, staring out the window. "Hello, Monica," Caterina greeted cheerfully.

Monica jumped a little. She gave Caterina a big fake-friendly smile, but she stared at her boss with cornered animal eyes. "Oh! Hello, Cardinal Sforza!" she returned with a false sweetness Caterina always loathed. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, thank you." Caterina gave Monica her own fake smile and spoke with her own fake sweetness. For some reason, it made Monica shudder.

"Good!" Monica nervously started to rub her arms as if she suddenly got cold. "I'm so . . . happy to hear that! How's Gunslinger? Is he any better?"

"He's improving." Caterina had her hands behind her back. If Monica saw the device . . . oh, if she saw it.

Caterina pressed the button. Monica Argento didn't have much longer to live.

Monica put a hand to the necklace she always wore. She must have felt something change, something shift around her neck. "Oh . . . good. I . . . hope he recovers soon. I can't wait . . . to work with him again." She started to sweat.

_That will happen when Hell freezes over,_ Caterina didn't say._ You will never hurt him again._

"I should go," Monica said quickly. "Please excuse me, Your Eminence." Monica started to hurry down the hall.

"Of course, _Schwartz Witwe._"

Monica froze. She turned to look back at Caterina with eyes as big as dinner plates. Her skin, pale to begin with, faded to a snow white. "Wh-What?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, Monica. I was just practicing my German." Caterina put her fingers to her lips with mock sheepishness. "I'm thinking about going to Germanicus next month."

"Oh." Monica seemed to relax a little.

"I sure hope nobody kills me in my sleep before then!"

Monica looked like she could just faint.

"Are you alright, Black Widow?"

"I-I-I-I-I'm fine! F-Fine!" Monica stuttered. "I think I'm . . . j-j-just . . . a-a li-little . . . overheated." She gave her head a small shake. "Why would someone want to do that? Kill you in your sleep? I can't imagine why anyone would want to do that!"

Caterina shrugged calmly. "Who knows? I have no shortage of enemies."

"I should go." Monica sank into the floor without another word. Caterina went back into her office . . .

. . . and waited.

An hour later, there was a soft boom.

And that was the end of the Black Widow.

Caterina turned the page of the paperback she was reading. She would shed no tears for her subordinate. Monica would be happier in Hell anyway.

She would not send anyone out to collect Monica's body. She would not give her a proper Christian burial. The buzzards need to eat. Even the cheapest funeral would be wasted on that bitch. No one would miss her anyway. Caterina would just simply tell everyone she had cut Monica loose.

She should've done that a long time ago.

The end


End file.
